


Straightened Out

by helens78



Category: Natural Nylon RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-17
Updated: 2004-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ewan is aggressively straight.  Jude is starting to feel like Ewan's dirty little secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straightened Out

Ewan McGregor is straight. He's a straight man who does straight things with his straight friends. He goes out to straight bars and hits on women and rarely, if ever, goes home alone.

Jude is starting to feel like Ewan's dirty little secret.

The first time it happened it was perfectly understandable. Both of them were drunk, and Ewan had struck out horribly with a pretty blonde girl at the bar. Arms wrapped around each other's shoulders on the way home, both of them stumbling, Ewan had slurred out something about no one wanting to shag him, and Jude had said something to the effect of _I'd shag you, if you were a girl_.

Ewan's no girl. But that didn't stop him from taking a handjob in an alley on the way home.

* * *

Jude Law is straight. But he's not as aggressively straight as Ewan. And he doesn't mind admitting that he finds his best friend more than reasonably shaggable. Even when Ewan's got the scruffy beard for those damn Star Wars movies. Even when he's wearing a skirt -- oh, all right, kilt -- that shows off his hairy knees.

All right, _especially_ when he's in a kilt that shows off his knees.

That first handjob was an accident. Jude swears to that. He'd been attracted to Ewan for a while, but it would never have gone anywhere if they hadn't both been drunk.

It's the second handjob, and the third, and the fourth (where Ewan actually reciprocated) that get to him. _Is it really all that bad,_ he wonders, _having my hands on you?_

* * *

Ewan closes his eyes when Jude's going down on him. Jude knows this, even though most of the time he doesn't have the kind of vantage point he'd need to be able to see. Ewan closes his eyes and he probably thinks of girls he's been to bed with, ones who left lipstick stains on his cock.

But Jude bets none of them know how to deepthroat. He's pretty sure no one Ewan's been with understands that the feeling of moving just past the gag reflex is like nothing on this earth. He knows girls don't appreciate just how good it feels having your balls teased and tickled and having that spot just behind them scratched and rubbed.

He's not so sure Ewan appreciates it as well as he should, but at least Ewan's not pushing him away or stumbling off after anymore.

* * *

Maybe Ewan does appreciate all Jude's blowjob tricks, because on a rainy Sunday in a hotel room in Cannes, Ewan rolls over after Jude's finished with him and slides his way down Jude's body, unsnapping Jude's jeans and sliding his hand inside. Jude's surprised; Ewan normally collapses after Jude goes down on him. A handjob would be so much better than wanking in the loo. He's thrilled.

But he's even more shocked than thrilled when Ewan leans down and wraps his lips around Jude's cock. His hands fly up to Ewan's head before he can think better of it, but he stops himself from making fists in Ewan's hair and dragging his head down.

_This is the first blowjob he's ever given,_ Jude thinks giddily. _And it's mine._

And while it's sloppy, wet, and Ewan tugs back the instant Jude says the inevitable "Coming--!"...

...it's still Ewan's mouth on Jude's cock.

Maybe Ewan isn't so straight after all.

* * *

Or maybe he is. Because handjobs were one thing, and even blowjobs were getting easy to explain away, but Jude can't picture any way Ewan could explain away this. And that's got to be the reason he hasn't called.

Straight men do _not_ fuck their best mates. They just don't.

Oh, but what a shame they don't. Jude still pulls off thinking about it. Ewan's hands on his hips. Ewan's cock in his arse. The way his voice sounded when he came -- _Jude Jude Jude oh fuck Jude_.

And Jude was good about it, damn it. He didn't try to talk when Ewan was getting dressed, and he didn't say _can we do this again sometime?_ as Ewan was leaving.

Really just as well, because the answer was obviously no.

Jude sighs. Another night. Another wank.

He misses Ewan.

* * *

The tap on Jude's door is almost too faint to get his attention. But eventually Jude hauls himself off his sofa and wanders to the door, brushing crumbs off his t-shirt and running a hand through hair that's far too short and mussed to do anything about.

Ewan's at the door. Jude blinks at him, and then says, "Come in?"

It doesn't seem like it could get any more awkward. Ewan sits down on the couch and looks up at Jude, then past him, then down at the floor. Jude shoves his hands into his back pockets and sighs. "What's the matter?"

"I think I'm an idiot."

Jude flashes him a grin. "I've thought that for years," he teases. "What brought on the revelation?"

"I liked fucking you."

Jude's expression sticks, and he nods. "Right, then. Well... You really didn't have to come over here to tell me that, you know."

Ewan gives Jude a pained look. "I mean, I've been avoiding you, and I've been avoiding you because I liked fucking you, and that's what makes me an idiot. I've never avoided anyone because I liked fucking them before."

"Er... oh?" Jude asks, as if getting out two unintelligible syllables is somehow better than only getting out one. _Try harder._ "Well... thank you?" he offers.

Fidgeting, Ewan looks up, then back down, then straight into Jude's eyes. "Is it a bad thing if I liked fucking you?" he asks.

"If it makes you avoid me, then yeah, maybe it is," Jude says quietly. "Maybe we shouldn't have done it."

"I was going to ask if maybe we should do it again."

Jude blinks. "You want to fuck me again."

"...yeah."

"To do what, Ewan? Get the urge out of your system? Find out what it's like shagging another boy? Make me the one exception to your _I'm so straight_ pub-crawling attitude?" _Oh. I'm bitter._ It's like watching himself through one-way glass, suddenly realizing there are things he's never said.

And it's making Ewan wince. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Well, I didn't offer it like that in the first place. I never wanted to be your experiment." Jude sighs and scratches at an odd itch on the front of his chest. "I don't think you're an idiot, Ewan. I just wish you'd think about these things before doing them."

"Does that mean you don't want to shag me?"

"Ewan, for God's sake--"

"I was joking," Ewan says, holding up his hands. "I mean, I was just -- you're looking so -- I should go." He stands up, dries his palms on the fronts of his jeans. "I'll go."

"Yeah," Jude says. "Maybe that'd be best."

Ewan lets himself out and closes the door behind him. Jude heads to the front window and watches Ewan ride off on his bike, and pokes his head out the window after Ewan's gone.

"You're right, you know," he yells after him. "You're a fucking idiot."

* * *

He is. No question. But Jude's an even bigger fucking idiot, because he's on Ewan's doorstep and he _knows_, just knows, he's going to walk in and find out that Ewan left Jude's flat, went to a pub, and now there are three girls in bed with him.

But Ewan opens the door, and there are no girls in sight. Jude's so surprised he only manages a slightly startled "erp" when he sees Ewan standing there, wearing a fuzzy jumper with sleeves down to his knuckles and jeans. He looks like he's been home all night, and he doesn't even smell of beer.

"You want to come in?" Ewan asks.

Jude nods, walking inside and letting Ewan close the door behind him.

"Do you want--"

"I want _you_." Jude turns to Ewan and shrugs, then lets his hands drop to his sides. "I don't care if you're an idiot. And I _don't_ want to be your experiment. But I want you."

Ewan gapes for a minute. It's only a minute, though, and then he takes a step forward, another step forward, and leans in -- tentatively, as if he's not sure he's not going to get slapped for this -- and brushes his lips against Jude's.

"Oh," Jude breathes.

"Yeah," Ewan answers. "Come on. Bed."

* * *

Ewan McGregor is straight. He's a straight man who does straight things with his straight friends. He goes out to straight bars and hits on women and rarely, if ever, goes home alone.

But he's really not looking very hard anymore. And straight or not, he's going home with Jude a lot.

Jude Law is straight. He's not as aggressively straight as Ewan; in fact, he's starting to think he's bi, or at least Ewansexual.

Tangled up in each other's arms and legs, it really doesn't matter whether one or both of them is straight or not.

They just _fit_.

That's enough.

_-end-_


End file.
